


Home - The Other Side

by maracopland



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Peggy Carter Friendship, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes Returns, M/M, Old Peggy Carter, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 05:18:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10507062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maracopland/pseuds/maracopland
Summary: Being on the run is exhausting, especially when you're running from someone who knows you better than you know yourself.(Companion piece to 'Home')





	

I don't know how long I was stumbling around before things started to come back to me. Part of it was spending day after day in that museum, staring at the photographs of the man on the bridge; the man I'd shot and almost killed; my mission; my .. Steve. I looked so happy. We both did. The name didn't feel familiar - had anyone ever referred to me as James? - but there I was, clean cut and handsome, two human arms and all, MIA and presumed dead. 

Here was Bucky Barnes. Not so much dead, but MMIA - memories missing in action. (Was I funny before? I feel like I was funny before they scrambled my brains like an omelette.) The guards started looking at me funny after I showed up to touch the photographs at the museum every day, so I found other ways to research. I found lost and found bins with clothes to keep warm. Most importantly, I found her. 

"You Brooklyn boys are far more stubborn than anyone thought you were."

"....you know who I am?"

"Well, you're certainly not groomed to your former standards, but I know you, Sergeant." She sat up in the bed, exhausted, but her eyes laser focused on me. I approached the bed, metal hand shoved in the pocket of the ratty jacket I'd fished out of a church donation bin. (Bless me, father, for I have sinned.)"Does Steve know you're back?"

".....oh, he knows." I sank into the cheap wooden chair next to her bed and put my head in my hands. "I.. my head. It's.. I don't remember. I don't remember. I only know you because of all the books. He.. god, he knows me, but..." I didn't realize I was crying until she reached out and took my hand. Her skin was soft and thin, like paper, and she tilted my chin up so she could brush the tears from my cheeks. 

Something hit me then, and the air was sucked from the room so suddenly that I couldn't breathe. She pulled her hand back, startled. "Bucky?"

"Peggy," I breathed, my heart aching in my chest. "I killed them."

"Who?"

"He recognized me before I killed him. He.. oh, god.." I retched, barely keeping the bile from rising in my throat. "I have to go." I could already feel my mind starting to drift; these brief moments of clarity came fast and furious with no warning at all. I stumbled back over the chair and moved for the door. 

"You need to go home," she frowned. "Whatever's going on, you know you can trust.." her voice trailed off and she looked at me differently than she had before. "...who are you?"

As much as I hated seeing the spark disappear from her eyes, it was kind of comforting knowing I wasn't the only one. "Believe me, I wish I knew." I wanted to kiss her goodbye, to thank her for something that I didn't know what it was, but that memory was out of reach. I left that place, full of people the same age I should have been, my head reeling. 

Who was that man in my vision, looking at me with such painful familiarity? Why did it feel like a betrayal almost on par with the man on the bri-- *Steve*. With Steve. He was Steve. 

I wandered for months after my visit with Peggy. Honestly, I don't remember the flight back to New York. I couldn't tell you how I got a ticket. Maybe it's better that way. New York was so strange - it was familiar but not. It was home but somewhere I've never been before. 

After days, I ended up at some remodeled apartment building. A couple people pressed money into my hand, clucking sympathetically, another told me to find Jesus. (I may not remember my name, pal, but I know I was raised Irish Catholic. Nice try.) This place felt more familiar than anywhere I'd been before, but it didn't look the same. I almost punched one of the perfectly painted brick walls in frustration when a voice behind me made me freeze. 

"...Buck?"

Every single instinct in my body was telling me to run, but I turned around and looked at Steve's stricken expression and the fight drained out of me instantly. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt like I was home. The second he had his arms around me and he was holding me, I was clinging to him, breathing in the scent of ivory soap on skin. I was crying, out of relief or pain or joy, I don't know. I didn't care, and he was crying too, so I wasn't alone. 

I wasn't alone. 

Recovery was tough. Even after months, the nightmares would get me. I'd wake up terrified and dripping with sweat and it would take Steve ten minutes to calm me down again to the point that I wasn't going to dive out his bedroom window. Still, I was getting better, and that kiss was worth a week of nightmares. That kiss brought back so many memories - discreetly holding his hand on the merry-go-round because I knew he got nervous, cuddling up to him to keep him warm in winter when our shitty apartment's heat went out, the few times we could afford to go to a picture show and the way his face would light up... 

"I really love you," I murmured into  
his lips a few nights after the first kiss. 

"I love you too, Buck. Even if you need a haircut. Your old man would flip." He ran his fingers through my hair. As much as he complained, he liked playing with my hair as much as I liked letting him. 

I pressed a kiss to his jaw. "Can I point out that we're both in bed, naked and we've been laying here kissing and fooling around for a half hour? My hair would be the least of his worries."

"...fair point." Steve laughed nervously, and his hand hovered around my ass before giving it a squeeze. I felt his fingers trailing along the mess of scar tissue that connected me to the arm Hydra had attached and he sighed, pulling me closer. 

"Don't you dare apologize, Rogers," I warned, and he went quiet, sighing. I lay my head on his chest. "I'm home now, that's all that matters. "

He kissed my forehead and the room went quiet again. I tucked my head under his chest, and as was often the case, fell asleep first. 

I was home. At last.

**Author's Note:**

> "Not all who wander are lost. Tolkein." 
> 
> "Not all who work here are f--king nerds. Sorola."
> 
> It's after midnight. I just hope it made sense. Again, thank you all for reading. <3


End file.
